Blackbird
by SilverSirens
Summary: Lucy Merrlo knew how to act in New York's natural mess, but when Chris D'amico takes a strange interest in her, she's forced back into the life she fought so hard to get out of. Set during Kick-Ass 2, where Chris is twenty, and Lucy is a nineteen year-old college student. Rated M for language and sexual situations.
1. We Meet Again

**NOTE: I do not own Kick-Ass, Kick-Ass 2, or any of the characters other than those you're unfamiliar with, nor am I attempted to claim them as my own creations. I noticed there was a lack of Chris stories, and I really want to explore this side of his character. Tell me what you think! (:**

_Entry number..I don't even know._

_Being a freshman in college is nothing like people made it seem. There weren't piles and piles of term papers and online homework assignments, proffessors who droned on and on, or the lack of drive to get up and moving. Instead, the desire to learn, to be better._

_I came from a family of mobsters. Living in New York, with all of the Kick-Ass business, that didn't seem like such a big deal. At least, until the death of Frank D'amico, and along the death of the great mob boss himself, the death of my father, and two of my brothers._

_Now, it's easy to see why I'd never want to follow in the footsteps of the men of my family. Men tended to die. As for me, I'd become someone else. I'd always have ties, of course. Once you're born into the company of mobsters and gangsters, it's a shock if you ever truly get to leave, but with me it'll be different. I'll become something that my family before me never was: someone who actually kept other human beings alive, rather than mercilessly killing them._

_I imagine it sounds like I'm making false promises to myself, and maybe that's true. No matter, I'm an adult now, and it's time to grow up._

_-Lucy Merrlo_

* * *

"Lucy! Get your bony ass over here!" With a groan and a roll of her dark eyes, Lucy tossed the bag of trash into the alley dumpster and jogged back into the diner. She'd been working at Ollie's for no less than three months, and was already the go-to when anyone needed to use her as an errand girl. Denise stood behind the counter top tapping her foot, as if it had been hours since she called her name. "Yeah, what?" Lucy asked, eyebrows raised.

Denise only grinned. "Check out table three," she mumbled as Lucy came round to the front of the counter. "The Mighty Emo and his mommy showed up again."

Propping her elbow up onto the counter, Lucy slid in the seat and nonchalantly craned her neck to the side. Low and behold, there sat Chris and Angela D'amico, in an apparent argument. "I thought they moved?"

"Oh, they did. Long Island. They come out once or twice a month. Some bullshit about this being his dad's favorite ham and eggs spot." Lucy's nose scrunched up. Favorite spot? This place? "Dude..this place is a dump, in the middle of bumfuck New York. I'm pretty sure three other people know about this place. Why would this be anyone's favorite spot?"

Denise held her hands up, turning back towards the kitchen._ Well, customers are customers,_ she thought. If anything, they'd tip her well and she'd be able to live off of more than just instant potatoes and Coke. Grabbing her pad and pen, she warily made her way over. Chris looked up from his mother with a bored look on his face. Why anyone would want to wear that much black in ninety-degree weather, Lucy would never know.

"Welcome to Ollie's, can I get you anything to drink?" The young woman put on the most believable face she could, trying not to smack the scrutiny off of the spoiled boy's face. "Give me the strongest whiskey you have. I'd prefer if you put a little animal blood in there." Was this kid serious? _Please, please don't let this poor guy be serious._

His mother sighed and rubbed her temples. "For fuck's sake, Chris- just get him a root beer. Ya got 'em in the little glass bottles, right?" Lucy nodded slowly, writing it down. "For me, I'll have a coffee. Gotta get a little a.m. boost."

"The only a.m. boost you've ever had in your life is the ten o'clock martinis-"

Lucy interrupted, hoping to god the boy would stop being overly rebellious towards his mother. Everyone dealt with death in their own way, but this..this was almost too much, especially for Lucy. "It'll be just a few minutes."

Angela only smiled, smacking Chris on the shoulder as Lucy turned on her heel to the drink station. She remembered the Chris from two years before, always properly dressed and holding a comic. Now he only acted like a bad ass in training, and it made her want to tear her hair out. Filling the mug to the brim with coffee, she grabbed the glass bottle from the fridge and made her way back over to table three. "Don't I know you?" Angela questioned, faintly tracing her finger along her chin. The woman's eyes were squinted as she studied Lucy's face, and again, the girl nodded.

"Yeah, actually. My dad, uh..he worked for Frank. At the lumber yard. And at your place." Lucy was now under curious eyes of both D'amico's. "My dad was there when the accident happened."

Chris scoffed out a quick, "It wasn't a fucking accident." This only made the urge to hit him stronger, and crossing her arms she turned her gaze to him. "Yeah, he died too, actually. But who's to notice the other causalities when Frank D'amico: Hotshot Mob-Man gets himself blown up."

She'd never been so irritated, so angry, but Chris managed to stomp on every last nerve she had. Lucy heard a cough, to which she quickly turned her head. Denise and Ollie stood shoulder to shoulder, their eyes begging her to step away from the table. And she did. It wasn't worth getting into an argument about who's death was more brutal, or who's pity party was bigger. In truth, no one gave a shit. "What the hell was that about?"

Plopping down in her seat at the counter, the girl shook her head quickly. "I really, really don't want to get into it. Would you mind if I got off a few minutes early?" Ollie shrugged, looking towards the caramel colored woman.

Denise offered a smile back to the owner, "I'll take the rest of her shift, no problem." Getting up, Lucy hugged the older woman. "It's been a rough day anyway, sweetheart. Go on home."

* * *

"Hey!" A voice was muffled, barely audible through her earbuds. "I'm talking to you." A hand gripped onto Lucy's shoulder, sending her into panic mode. She grabbed the wrist, threatening to twist it, and pulled her headphones out with her other hand.

Chris looked just as angry as she'd been moments before inside the diner, yanking his arm away from her. "What the fuck do you want, dude? Seriously, I really don't have time for spoiled little brats like you." His mouth opened as he struggled to find something to comeback with. "What, you've never been talked back to before? Welcome to the real world, motherfucker." Lucy shoved past him, her bony shoulder jabbing into his. Of course it would bruise her, but the satisfaction of the action made her feel tough, though the girl was about as tough as a graham cracker. She couldn't have been born into a more different family.

"Listen, bitch! If I wanted to, I could buy out that little diner of yours, and with it, I could probably buy you out too. Do you know who you're talking to?" He'd started to sound more and more obnoxious, arrogant. Flaunting the fact that he had money wasn't the way to get what he wanted, but in a greedy world, it still worked. Stopping, the redhead sucked her teeth.

"What do you want?" She asked flatly, not even turning around. Chris thought about it for a moment. What did he want from her? Well, he could think of a few things. To have her killed..maybe. Hurt? Almost definitely, along with a number of crude things that made even him blush. He knew who she was, and who her father was. He couldn't forget that fiery temper. _Or that ass. _He thought, staring her down. "I don't know yet. But when I figure it out, I'll be coming to find you." He pointed a finger at her. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Was that a threat? Was he threatening her? She couldn't be scared of this kid. Sure, she wasn't tough, or strong, or had an angry thirst for blood, but whatever facade this guy had up..it was bullshit, and she knew it.


	2. Is This a Kidnapping?

**NOTE: I do not own Kick-Ass, Kick-Ass 2, or any of the characters other than those you're unfamiliar with, nor am I attempted to claim them as my own creations. I noticed there was a lack of Chris stories, and I really want to explore this side of his character. Tell me what you think! (:**

* * *

"What the _hell_, mom!" Chris yelled out, rushing out of his room and down the stairs. His obsession with all things Kick-Ass had grown in the last two years, and the fact that his mother had just wiped out an important piece of his little messed up puzzle made him angry beyond words. "Did you delete the news off the DVR?!"

Blender in hand, Angela pursed her lips. "Yes. Yes I did, Christopher." The boy's hands clenched into tight fists and he shook. "That was the one with Kick-Ass!"

This shit again, his mother thought, walking away. "Oh! Christopher, you have got to stop obsessing over that superhero!" The boy was twenty-years-old for Christ's sake. He had real responsibilites now, and all this talk about Kick-Ass, Hit Girl, and the other superheroes who'd popped up around the start were starting to really drive Angela to an alcoholic state.

"He's not a superhero, he's a fucking murderer! He blew up dad with a _bazooka_ for fuck's sake!"

The woman ignored him, setting her blender down on the glass table. "Your father died in a fire," she insisted, making a cross motion over her chest as if she'd been religious a day in her life. Chris snapped, holding his hands up.

"A fi-a fire? What is your problem?!"

"You!" She yelled back at her son, slamming a bottle of vodka down to point an accusing finger into his face. "_You_ are my problem! I am trying to raise you to be a normal boy. That's why we moved to Long Island after your father's accident." Truth was, Angela could care less. Once Frank died, something about Chris changed. Something that made him difficult to be around, and while she still loved her son, she began to love her booze just a little bit more.

"A bazooka. Is not. An accident. You delusional bitch!" Why couldn't his mother wrap her head around the fact that what Kick-Ass did do his father was murder, and that he needed to pay? "This conversation is over, Chris."

Angela raised her eyebrows at her son, turning towards the stairs. "Great!" Chris yelled out, "Then I'm leaving." The boy needed to run, or scream, or just fucking hit something. That wouldn't happen anytime soon, he realized as Javier, one of his mother's most trusted bodyguards, stepped in front of him. Keeping his eyes shut, Chris spoke through his teeth. "Come on, Javier. Be cool." Perhaps if he tried to appeal to the fact that Javier knew what his mother was doing was a load of bullshit, he'd let the boy through.

"Sorry, Chris. Your mom pays me not to be cool.." Chris took in a breath and stomped off after his mother, yelling out profanities, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I hate you!" He seethed as he reached Angela's tanning room. "You try to homeschool me like I'm a fucking prisoner! You threw away my Red Mist costume! God!" His hands went to his hair, frustratingly tugging on the black locks. "I am not the problem, you are! I. Wish. You. Were. Dead!"

With each word he spouted out, Chris kicked at the tanning bed. If anything, it would annoy his mother so much she'd let him do what he felt he was meant to do. Suddenly, fiery orange sparks flew from the bed's vent, frying whatever wiring was inside. His mother's scream came from inside, and before he knew it, Angela D'amico was fried as well. A thin arm slung out of the opened, causing Chris's eyes to widen up. "M..mommy?"

* * *

"Did you hear about the accident in Long Island?" Lucy's head snapped up from her cereal, turning her attention to her roommate, Mark. She looked at him expectantly. _Long Island..that's where Chris lives. What the hell kind of accident followed him this time? _"Yeah, apparently that rich boy's mom got cooked. Something about the wires in her tanning bed shorting out. The news said she was pretty bad."

Lucy straightened up, setting her spoon back in the bowl. "Which rich kid? That's like saying 'oh, that one cab driver.'"

"Chris D'amico," Mark told her, flipping through the rest of the newspaper. Somehow, in some way, Lucy just knew it had something to do with him. While she'd never been particularly fond of his mother, it was still sad. That was the only person he had left, and she knew the feeling. "Damn.." she muttered, shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "That fucking blows."

What else was she supposed to say? "Oh man, it really sucks that his dad just got blown up, and his mom got cooked in her tanning bed. Do you think he needs a hug?" Of course Chris needed a hug. Chris needed about a thousand hugs, considering the fact that with all of the drug deals, murder, and bodyguards that surrounded him his whole life, he probably didn't get hugged enough as a child. Mark shrugged, looking at his watch. "You're gonna be late for work."

"Oh please," the redhead laughed, sipping the milk that was left at the bottom of the bowl. "Since when did you become Mr. Responsible Man? You've never cared about me getting to work on time before." Leaning his head on the back of the couch, Mark let out a groan. "I'm trying this thing where I be the grown-up that I'm supposed to be. Now scoot before I toss you out myself."

Lucy only laughed, picking up her bag and heading out the door.

* * *

Ollie's had been unusually busy that morning. Still, they'd only had a max of at least twelve people come in for breakfast, but even for a Saturday that was busy. Pushing the kitchen door open, Lucy dropped her table's dishes into the sink. "I still cannot fathom how one man can eat three full meals." Denise laughed, nudging the girl.

"You get used to it. He comes in all the time." The woman remembered what she meant to tell Lucy when the girl came in for work, black curls bouncing her face as she looked up. "Oh! Did you hear about-"

"About Chris, and what happened to his mom?" Lucy finished, laughing as Denise's shoulders slumped back down in disappointment. The woman loved to gossip. "Yeah, I heard this morning. It's pretty sad, considering his dad and stuff." The older woman lifted a brow at the girl, crossing her arms. What the hell happened to the girl who was yelling at him only days before, with a look that could kill?

Denise held a hand up. "Hold on. Weren't you in his face the other day? Why do you care now?" Lucy's expression changed to shock as she looked to her co-worker. Was she serious? Just because Lucy may have the inner urge to maim Chris didn't mean she was just "okay" with the fact that his mom died. She knew what it was like losing family, and despite the shitty things he did recently, and the way he acted, didn't mean he deserved that. Denise rolled her eyes at the girls expression, waving it off. "I know how you get, girl. Forget I asked that."

The chime of the bells over the door grabbed their attention, and they quickly skitted out of the kitchen. As if on cue, the Devil himself walked through, a shorter bodyguard tailing along behind him. "You," he pointed to Lucy, whose face scrunched up in response. What the hell did he want with her this time? Someone to yell at? "Remember when I said I didn't know what I wanted with you? Well I figured it out. You're coming with me." Lucy gawked at him, crossing her arms over her chest. Denise let out a choked laugh.

"You know you can't just command that I go with you. You're aware of that right?" Lucy asked, squinting at him. Chris sent a look to the man behind him, who in response pushed away his jacket to set his hands on his hips, as if to nonchalantly show off his gun. Was he really doing this right now? Denise stepped closer to Lucy. "Don't, D. I can handle myself." With a sigh, Lucy pulled off her apron, offering to the woman. "What am I supposed to tell Ollie?" She asked, eyes wide. Chris tapped his foot on the tile, impatience written all over his face.

"I don't know," Lucy muttered. "Just..tell him I had a family emergency, okay?" Denise nodded, and Chris grabbed her by the arm, shoving her out through the door and into his sleek black car. Sliding in beside her, he furrowed his brows. The girl sat there, arms folded, eyes glaring. She looked like a pouting child, but at least he understood why. "You know what this world is like. My world." Lucy scoffed, earning an angry huff from Chris. He grabbed her by her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I know you can handle it, because you grew up in it too. We've been through a lot of fucked up stuff during our life; never having a childhood, or real friends. You're seriously going to tell me that you're not pissed about your dad being dead?"

Lucy squinted at him again, yanking her head back out of his hand. "My dad made shitty choices, and they caught back up with him. I'm nothing like my dad, nor am I anywhere near as tough as my brothers. You're really barking up the wrong tree here."

Chris smirked, holding up a finger. "That," he tapped it in her direction, "is the exact reason why I want you here. You've got attitude. You know how to light a fire under someone's ass and _that_ is what I need." She looked at him incredulously, shaking her head at him. "Chris, what in the _hell _are you talking about?"

Hearing his name triggered something in him. After his major decision early that day to become the world's biggest supervillain, The Motherfucker, he'd tossed out Chris D'amico. Chris D'amico didn't exist anymore. With a dark look on his face, he turned to her, boring his eyes into hers to get the message across. "Don't. Don't call me that. That isn't my name anymore." He sat back, folding his hands in his lap. "You only call me the Motherfucker now."


	3. Accomplice

**NOTE: I do not own Kick-Ass, Kick-Ass 2, or any of the characters other than those you're unfamiliar with, nor am I attempted to claim them as my own creations. I noticed there was a lack of Chris stories, and I really want to explore this side of his character.**

* * *

Lucy stared him in the eyes, fists clenching as to not give away to the fact that though she'd never seen this look on his face before, and in a sense, it scared her. Blinking, her brows furrowed. "You want me to call you..the 'Motherfucker'? _That's_ what you want to be called?" The redhead snorted, sitting back against the leather of the seat. If he wanted her to swear at him, he sure as hell didn't have to ask her twice. "What, are you looking in to wrestling or something?"

Chris's gaze further deepened, the glare becoming prominent. "This isn't a game. This isn't for show. This is about me coming the world's biggest known supervillain." He _would_ exact his revenge on Kick-Ass for what he did, and no amount of ridicule would stop him. Lucy looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"This is about supervillains and superheroes? Are you trying to get on TV now? Most of those people who go out there in those little spandex outfits don't know the first thing about danger, or stopping it for that matter. Sure, it doesn't hurt to go out and try to help, but you're in the complete opposite court here. What are you going to do as 'the Motherfucker', _Chris_? Huh?" Lucy put extra emphasis on his name, simply to spite him, and he knew it. Chris hadn't even gotten to the good part before she started tearing the idea apart. It made sense, though, for her to be skeptical of it.

"Oh, trust me," he murmured, sitting back in his seat. "You'll see what I'm gonna do."

* * *

Lucy stood just at the bottom of the steps, tapping her foot. The house, Chris's house, was much larger than she'd originally anticipated. _What else did you expect, a shack? He's New York's richest young adult. _The ceiling was high, and the trim around every wall had detail that only an artist could dream of. The stairs, the furniture, all of it, just spouted out "this is how well-off we are, and we want you to know it!" The mansion was beautiful, however. The D'amico's still had taste.

A throat cleared at the top of the stairs, and Lucy looked up, hand immediately flying to mouth. Descending down the steps was Chris, clad in a leather gimp suit: complete with cape and mask. Had he not had on a red shirt and dark skinny jeans underneath it all, he'd be showing nothing but skin. The girl folded her lips inward, trying as hard as she could not to laugh. Chris saw right through it.

"What," he spat, crossing his arms, "you could do better? I look bad ass." Chris looked intimidating, or so he thought. He stopped on the last step, right in front of Lucy. Under the mask, a brow was lifted. Lucy nodded.

"Yeah, actually. I think I could."

Chris glared, stepping around her. Imagining what the redhead would look like in tight leather made him wish he'd chosen a less hot person to be his right-hand. Even then, he'd desired her to be a little more than his right-hand. "Let's just go. Javier is already in the car waiting." He told her, yanking the door open. "Crime awaits."

_Please tell me he did not just say that. _Lucy's mind screamed, wishing she could only smack a little sense into him. Nonetheless, she obeyed. God only knew what he'd have done if she didn't. The car ride was a blur to her, as she stared out of the window throughout it's entirety, ignoring Chris. Before she knew it, they were back in the city, stopped outside of a little hole-in-the-wall convenient store. The man in the front seat shook his head. "Your Uncle Ralph's not gonna be happy about this, Chris-"

The boy next to her interrupted him with a huff. "That's not my name." Javier turned his gaze out of the window. "I'm not calling you that, so forget it."

Chris was starting to get pissed off now. What was so hard about calling him what he wanted to be called. This was who he was now. "Javier." His tone was scolding, and Lucy knew he'd have a lot to say. "You worked for my dad. Then you worked for my mom, and now you work for me. I'm _proobably_ the richest kid in New York City. But if you don't like that, then find yourself another mother-fucking job, okay?" With that, he pulled the leather mask over his face, ignoring Javier's "whatever" from the front seat. "Keep the car running, will ya?"

* * *

Javier tapped on the steering wheel, while Lucy sat in the back, arms folded over her chest before she decided to take the initiative to break the silence. "Is he like this a lot?" Javier craned his neck to look at her. "Depends. What exactly is 'this'?"

Lucy lifted her brows for a second. "Well I mean..annoying. Bratty. Over-defiant?" At this, Javier let out a throaty laugh, nodding as he turned the rest of the way in his seat. It didn't surprise her that Chris acted like a baby all the time. "I'm sorry you have to babysit."

The bodyguard shrugged, stretching an arm over the seat. "It's not all bad, if you're talking about him. I get paid well, and despite their rep, I love that family. That kid used to be sweet." Lucy remembered when he was that sweet kid, almost three years ago, before his dad died. Maybe he'd always been hiding the desire to become a criminal. If that were the case, he hid it well under the puppy-dog eyes and comic books.

The sound of gunshots in the store caused Lucy to jump, and Javier quickly turned back in his seat. Not even a minute later, Chris tore the door open, yelling for Javier to start the car. He jumped in, slamming into Lucy while he did so, and the car lurched forward.

"That was amazing!" He yelled, gasping for breath as he sat his head against the seat. "I feel so alive! I know who I am. I know why I'm here." The boy was having some sort of life epiphany verging on mental breakdown. "I am gonna fuck this world _up!"_ He yelled out, punching the roof of the car with each word. "They will know the Motherfucker's name!" He let out a yell, and Lucy covered her ears. He had to be hooked out something. Chris took a breath and leaned up to Javier. "You've got to find some bad ass MMA types to train me, okay? Chuck..Liddell, or whoever. Fuck, I don't care how much it costs! I just want to be able to kill Kick-Ass. With my bare hands." _  
_

Lucy's eyes were glued to his face, which was twisted into some sick expression caused by the power he felt he held. Just as she thought his speech was over, his face turned serious. "I've gotta tweet about this!" He said, pulling his phone from one of the many zippered pockets. The girl watched as his fingers ran frantically over the keys. For a brief moment, his adrenaline had pumped so much that he'd forgotten she was there in the car, waiting on him. He turned his head to look at her, her expression screaming disbelief. "What?" He asked, shrugging.

"Have you lost your _fucking mind?"_ She shrieked at him, punching his shoulder. "You just robbed that place!" Chris shrugged again, rolling his eyes at her outburst. She seemed to have lost her tough exterior sometime between leaving the house and now. "That makes me an accomplice, you idiot! I'm a straight-A college student. I have a job, where I work my ass to earn the money for the rent at my apartment, where I _live. _Did you fucking forget?!"

Chris ran his tongue over his teeth, pulling the mask off of his face. His hair was a mess, and he was sweating under the suit, but he only cared about the fact that he'd just robbed a store, and destroyed it in the process. "You're over reacting." He saw Javier glance in the rear-view, but his guard stayed quiet.

"I'm sorry, I'm overreacting? You just made me. An accomplice." She spat through clenched teeth. No amount of breathing would calm her down now. Lucy had gone out on her own for a reason. To get away from the life of crime that her family just couldn't rid. She hit his shoulder again, harder this time, hoping for a bruise. "I should kick your ass for this." She told him, glaring at him. _If looks could kill._ Something about the way she was hitting him, the way she was yelling at him, made him snap and he grabbed her by the throat. Chris pressed the skinny girl down into the seat, hovering over her, despite the possible danger of being thrown around the car with every turn it took. Her arms fought to shove him off, and even Javier shouted at him in the front seat to sit back down.

"You listen to me!" He was in her face now, digging a knee into hers. "You don't run this show, _I_ do. My adrenaline levels are through the roof right now, so I suggest you not fucking fuck with me, okay!" Lucy kept her mouth shut in defiance as her wide eyes and heavy breathing betrayed her. No one had ever gotten so physical with her with malicious intent, and it freaked her out. He leaned closer to her, eyes boring into hers as he did so, much like he had in the diner only hours before. "Do you understand?" He asked slowly in her ear, as if to give her time to hear each word he was saying. Lucy nodded carefully, and he released her, allowing her to sit up as if nothing had happened.

She didn't speak for the rest of the car ride back to Long Island.

* * *

**Look at all that threatening. So I made a little cover for this story, but it's too big to fit as an actual cover on FF, so it's in my bio. Tell me what you think of it! **


	4. Vulnerable (part 1)

**NOTE: I do not own Kick-Ass, Kick-Ass 2, or any of the characters other than those you're unfamiliar with, nor am I attempted to claim them as my own creations. I noticed there was a lack of Chris stories, and I really want to explore this side of his character.**

* * *

Lucy pulled her hair up into a loose bun and stared at her self in the large mirror. They'd put her into one of the nicest rooms of the mansion, complete with a giant walk-in closet that she'd never get to use, and a king-sized canopy bed. For someone who had taken her from her place of employment without warning, Chris knew how to spoil her. Perhaps he was showing off for her, attempting to impress her, or perhaps giving her this forced comfort was some twisted way of apologizing for the way her outright man-handled her in the car on the way back.

_Who the fuck know_s, she thought, tugging on the over sized button-up they'd given her to sleep in. Blowing a stray hair from her face, the redhead turned and climbed up onto the bed. Once she'd gotten settled into the silk of the sheets and blankets, the atmosphere around her changed. Lucy didn't know if she'd ever get to go home, or if she'd ever to get to go back to work, or school for that matter. For all she knew, Chris had already called and wired the school money to keep her in the system without consequences to her grades. Her head tilted down and she squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to spill over. She never knew just how human she was until she'd been taken.

"I'm sorry," came a voice from the doorway. Startled, Lucy looked up to meet Chris' face. "About what I did in the car. That was..kind of a dick move." Lucy scoffed, scooting away from him as he took a seat at the foot of the bed. This kid was being so goddamned flip-floppy with her, and it was driving her crazy.

"Yeah. It was." Lucy didn't want to speak to the budding supervillain, let alone _see_ him. Not now, when she was on he verge of crying. The boy leaned closer and lowered his voice, and she noticed a lisp in his voice that she hadn't caught onto before.

"I said I was sorry."

_I can't do shit with 'I'm sorry'. _Chris would never understand the reference if she'd said it aloud, despite it's relevance. Lucy crossed her arms, chewing her cheek so she wouldn't spout out something stupid at him. The further he scooted onto the bed, the less room she had to run away from him. "Would you at least look at me?"

Chris figured that, at the very least, she'd believe he was being sincere if she saw his face. Ever since his father's death, he'd started going through mental changes. His mom had even threatened to put him into therapy over the way he was acting, always obsessing over Kick-Ass, defying her whenever he possibly could. If he could he'd go back and change all that, and _still_ get his revenge on Kick-Ass.

He let out a breath as her head turned up to meet his eyes. He caught on to the red brim around her eyes, and her hands fidgeting with the sleeves of the shirt she'd been given. _His_ shirt.

"What the hell happened to you?" Lucy asked, her tone soft. His reply was simple; something she'd heard multiple times as an excuse from her brothers: "my dad died." The girl shook her head and relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah," she started, looking back down. "So did mine. But I'm trying to move on from that. Push past it all and make better choices than her family did in the past. "Why can't you?" She asked him, keeping her eyes down. His was silent for a moment, as if trying to give her an answered she'd understand.

"I just can't. You should go to sleep. We're having guests tomorrow."

* * *

**Hey guys! Sorry this one is so much later (and shorter) but this is going to be a kind of..two-parter, I s'pose. I wanted to have a down moment where they're both really vulnerable, so more will come in the next few days.**


	5. Important Update!

**I know, I got your hopes up. Alright guys, Kaycee here! I'd like to sincerely apologize, but also thank you guys for waiting so patiently. I wrote up an entire chapter during one of my classes, and I'm struggling to remember where I put it. On top of that, I started a new job and they have _definitely _been working me to the bone. Anyways, I have a very good idea as to where I put the chapter, so please bear with me! Expect a new chapter very soon!**

**Love you guys (:**


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